Regrets
by inlovewithacriminal
Summary: Post-Mockingjay. Katniss has married Peeta but can't let go of her past. "The tears spilled down my cheeks and I didn't wipe them away. I didn't have to worry about being weak, there was nobody there to be strong for."
1. Chapter 1

I just sat there. There was a sharp chill in the air that turned my bare skin to goose flesh and the mowed grass scratched against my legs, but I didn't care. I didn't move.

I couldn't go back, not yet anyway.

Funny thing. I'd faced more terrifying ordeals than I could count, yet nothing felt more scary to me right now than facing my own wedding reception.

It had taken a while for me to agree. A while for me to realize that I would never become any less broken, any less numb than I already was. Prim was gone, she was never coming back. Two years had passed, but the very thought of her still caused me to double over with grief. At first, it was overpowering. Then came the guilt, which was even worse. For a long time, all I did was sit in that old rocking chair by the fire, hating myself for everything I had done, all the pain I had caused.

There was nobody there to speak to, to console me at night when I screamed until I passed out. Haymitch had been right across the road, of course, though he didn't come and see me once. Later, I'd confronted him about it.

"My door wasn't locked either, Sweetheart." he said simply.

And he was right, I guess. He wasn't there to be my babysitter, to tell me everything was going to be fine. If I'd really needed him, I could have visited him. That was how things worked with us. We didn't lie, didn't pretend.

Things became fractionally better when Peeta returned. It made me feel better to have somebody to hold onto when my body was wracked with sobs. Somebody to tell me that it wasn't my fault, even though I knew full well it was.

He loved me, and even though I was too numb to feel anything, I eventually realized that I would never get better. So why not just go ahead and make at least him happy with the one thing he wanted?

My hand in marriage.

Yeugh. I'd let everybody else organize it. I was afraid that something would set me off and I'd back out. I wouldn't do that to Peeta, the only person who loved me.

And so that's how I found myself, dressed up in a frilly white dress that was truly not me. It was sent over from the Capitol, regards and best wishes from President Paylor. I ran my fingers over the cool pearls sown onto the neckline now, thinking of how I preferred Cinna's beautiful creations so much more. Just the thought of him makes my eyes well up with tears.

I went through with the wedding feeling like a ticking bomb, expecting to freak out at any moment. But I didn't.

When the time came, I said "I do." without any hesitation. Then there was kissing and clapping and flowers and champagne and I couldn't breathe. I excused myself and ran out of Peeta's -our- house and across the Victor's Village, into the back garden of the home that used to belong to me, my mother, to Prim.

That's where I sat now, telling myself to breathe, to calm down. Was I truly married now? How was I supposed to deal with this? Would Peeta want children right away? The very thought brought on another round of hyperventelating. How could I be expected to love and care for a baby when I wasn't even sure I was capable of feeling such emotions any more?

The tears spilled down my cheeks and I didn't wipe them away. I didn't have to worry about being weak, there was nobody here to be strong for.

Just then, I heard the soft thud of footsteps, the creak of the wooden gate.

"Katniss?"


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so my friend challenged me to write a KatnissxHaymitch pairing. This is how I thought things might pan out in the unlikely event that they ever actually got together. Tell me what you think.**

***I, of course, own nothing. It all belongs to the wonderful Suzanne Collins.**

The voice startled me. My head shot around, and in the moonlight I could make out a tall lean figure with mussed up hair, and could detect a faint smell of white liquor. Haymitch.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped, my words coming out sharper than I'd intended.

"Well sweetheart, it's not really a wedding celebration without the bride." He said in his usual sarcastic tone, though I detected the tiniest bit of softness. He'd probably noticed the tears glinting on my cheeks. I fiercely wiped them away, in no mood to appear vulnerable or be pitied.

I could hear music and laughter coming from Peeta's home a few houses down, where the party was being held. I hoped Peeta wasn't about to burst through the wooden gate too, I didn't want him to see me like this. So unhappy on the day that most would be euphoric. He certainly was.

"Does anybody know you're here?" I wondered aloud.

"No." He said curtly. And then, reading my thoughts, "But I suggest you rejoin the celebrations before he comes looking for you himself."

I nodded numbly, unmoving. Haymitch sighed and sat down heavily next to me, running a hand through his dark hair. The tears had made a reappearance and were once again trickling down my face. He didn't say anything to comfort me. He's not going to force me to talk about it, but he'll listen if I want to.

"Is it supposed to feel like this?" I said, after a long silence.

He laughed sharply.

"Sweetheart, I think I'm about the last person who you should be asking relationship advice from."

"I guess you're right." I said, smiling wanly.

We both just sit, staring at the moon in silence. I don't think he's going to say anything, but then he exhales.

"This is the happiest day of his life, you know."

"I know. That's why I did it, I want him to be happy. He deserves to be."

"And you don't?"

"No." I said, without hesitation.

An then did something unexpected, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder in a quick embrace. The gesture touched me, and without even thinking I leaned into him, craving the comfort. He didn't pull away, and neither did I.

We sat like that for a while, unspeaking, until a particularly loud bout of laughter from the party pierced the air.

Haymitch gave my shoulder a quick squeeze.

"Come on Mockingjay, time to get you back. I didn't get dressed up in a suit just to sit here on the grass in the dark for the whole night."

"Oh yes, you look very handsome indeed." I said as he helped me up, only being partly sarcastic. Truthfully, I appreciated the comfort he'd provided me, small as it was.

I brushed grass from my dress and dabbed beneath my eyes, worried the tears had smudged my make up beyond repair.

"Do I look okay?" I asked.

"Prettier than I've ever seen you." He said, lips twitching into a quick, rare smile. "Now let's get a move on." He held the gate open for me.

"Thank you," I said curtly, and it wasn't just for the chivalry or the compliment.

He knew that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Thanks for reading! Just in case you haven't noticed, I am staying faithful to the way the characters are physically described in the books, not the movie. Anyway, please review!**

I got through it, wearing that mask I had so perfected over time. I accepted the congratulations and chatted to the guests and drank champagne with a smile.

The person I was the most glad to see was my mother. She had flown over for the wedding, and I was grateful for that. It was difficult talking to her, she said a lot of things that were hard to hear and that bought back too many memories.

"Prim would have loved this." She said softly, tears clouding over her eyes that were a million miles away.

"Yeah, I know." I swallowed hard. I couldn't break down. Not here, not now. I knew that Prim would've loved it all. The flouncy, expensive dress. The beautiful primrose bouquets in her honor. She would've been my Maid of Honor.

I didn't want to think about that. I didn't want to think about Gale either, and the fact that I hadn't heard from him in over a year. He had been sent an invitation, but hadn't bothered to reply. It would've hurt, but I was so used to the feeling of being broken and numb that it didn't really crush me any more than I already was. Another person who once meant so much to me who wouldn't be present on my big day. Whatever.

It was late when we did the traditional District 12 toasting and the guests finally made their way home. I hadn't seen Haymitch since our talk in the dark. Good, I didn't really want to face him at the moment. I was embarrassed to have cried in front of him. I hated feeling so vulnerable.

After everybody had left, Peeta hugged me hard.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he smiled blissfully, his blue eyes shining.

I just smiled back and pecked him on the cheek.

"I need to get out of this dress, it's cutting off my circulation." I said quickly, and I squeezed his hand gently before I hurried up the staircase and into the master bedroom.

I cringed at how I had tactlessly ignored his sweet profession of love. I knew it must have stung, and I felt bad about that. I hated hurting Peeta. But I knew that he would never stop loving me, no matter what I did or how I acted. There was something so safe, and so scary, about that.

Nonetheless, I felt that I should have made more of an effort to be the loving wife I knew Peeta had always wanted, especially on our wedding night. I threw on a T-shirt and some sleeping shorts and made my way downstairs.

He was in the kitchen leaning on the counter with crossed arms. I approached him and hugged him tentatively from the back. He turned around and gave me a smile, which I returned - genuinely.

"Thank you, for everything." I said, burying my head in his chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'd do anything for you, you know that." He said, gently kissing the top of my head. I tilted my head up, wanting to see the warm blue eyes that always made me feel better. Peeta interpreted the movement as something different, and pressed his lips to mine.

I didn't pull away. The feeling was warm and familiar, and I didn't mind. It was only when he tightened his strong grip on me and deepened the kiss that I began to feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable.

"Peeta?" I murmured pulling away slightly, not getting very far in his tight grip

"Mmhm?" He murmured, eyes closed and lips back on mine. His right hand moved to the back of my hand, holding me in place while his left lingered by the small of my back, then moving to my hips, under my shirt, my chest...

"Peeta!" I shrieked into his mouth, squirming at his touch. All I wanted was to be let go. I hated the feeling of being trapped, held too tightly unable to move, of being touched. I pushed hard on his chest, and even he couldn't ignore that.

He immediately let go of me, practically jumping backwards.

"Katniss, I'm so sorry! I didn't..." He said, his voice gentle with concern and apology his eyes filling with tears.

"No no no. Peeta, it's me." I said quickly, hating the guilty look that crossed over his face. It wasn't his fault. What was he but a man that wanted to spend the night of his wedding with his wife. And what was I? A shattered piece of glass, beyong repair.

"I'm sorry. I'm just... So messed up." I said softly, hating myself. And before I knew what I was doing, I was out the door and running across the Victor's Village. I pounded on his door, hoping he wouldn't be passed out drunk. I stood there for a minute or so and was about to give up when suddenly the door opened and there he stood, black hair in disarray, clutching a liquor bottle.

"What is it?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for reading, please review - it motivates me and I'll update more regularly! If you have any suggestions or crit you can PM me or just write it in a review. Enjoy :)**

I just stood there awkwardly, at a loss for words. What did I want? I remembered wanting to get out of the house and away from Peeta's guilt-ridden eyes. I remembered racing to Haymitch's front door without hesitation. But for what?

"I could use a drink." I said lamely.

He laughed sharply.

"Then you came to the right place."

He stepped to the side and motioned for me to enter the house. I walked in slowly, taking in the stale smell of liquor, the empty atmosphere attributed to the lack of furniture and warmth.

I took a seat at the kitchen table as Haymitch poured some amber liquid into a glass. He sat down opposite me and slid the drink over to my hand. I took a sip, it burned my throat. Whiskey.

"So." he said, raising an eyebrow.

"So what?" I mumbled, watching my finger as I ran it softly over the circular top of the glass.

"You sure as hell can't be so desperate for a drink that you'd come knocking at my door at two o' clock in the morning. So what is it?"

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to talk to somebody about what had happened, but _Haymitch_? I supposed he was the person I usually went to with my problems. But that was when Snow was blackmailing me, when I wanted advice on how to deal with The Capitol. This was... Personal.

I had been quiet for a while. I lifted my gaze and stared into his grey eyes, very similar to mine. We _were_ very similar, full stop. Both had lost the people we loved the most by the iron fist of The Capitol. Both wanted nothing more than the revenge we knew we would never get. We were able to communicate with each other in the even the most minuscule of ways; the smallest gesture, the tiniest eye contact. He understood me. He may be drunk and snarky and bitter, but he understood me.

This is why I opened my mouth.

"It's Peeta." I said quietly, eyes back on the glass.

"And what of him?"

I paused, not sure quite how to word it.

"I can't... Give him what he wants."

"You already did. You married him."

"Yes, but... The other stuff... I can't - I mean, I don't feel like I'm ready to... And I should be able to, but... I just don't-"

"Sweetheart, let me stop you right there." He cut me off, amused at my awkwardness. "What you're trying to say is that you don't want to have sex with your husband?"

He smirked infuriatingly as I tried not to blush. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"It's not that simple."

"Do elaborate."

I sighed. "I wish I could. For him, I wish I could. But... Every time he touches me, I just can't..."

His smirk had been replaced with a straight, hard line, his eyes no longer glittering with amusement.

"And it's not because it's him," I continued, getting choked up. "It's just because it's _me_, because I'm so screwed up."

He sighed and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

"Look, Sweetheart. You know Peeta. He would never in a million years try to force you into anything."

"I know!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "That's why I feel so damn terrible! He shouldn't _have_ to tiptoe around me, worried that the smallest touch will set me off."

"Yeah, he shouldn't." said, looking right at me. "But that's the way it is. You've been through one hell of a lot, and anybody would be a fool to expect anything else from you."

"But it's been two years, I should be better!" I cried angrily. "I shouldn't still be so broken, but I am!"

His lips twitched into a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sorry to break it to you, Sweetheart, but it'll never hurt any less. No amount of time will make you feel any Goddamn better than you do now, so it's best to accept it. Trust me."

And he would know. His mother, his brother, his girl. All gone, and he still feels it every single day. His eyes have darted down to the table, and I felt a pang of sorrow for him, for how unhappy he's been for so long.

"I do trust you." I said softly, and his eyes flickered up and met mine, burning intensely. We sat there like that for a while, eyes connected. After what felt like forever he blinked, and I dropped my gaze and cleared my throat.

"So. What do you suggest I do? Play the happy suburban wife or stay forever a virgin?" I asked curtly.

Suddenly his expression changed from being dark to being shocked, an emotion I very rarely see in .

"Wait, you're a virgin?" He asked incrediously.

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I looked down, fiercely embarrassed.

"I just assumed that you and one of your boys had already..." he noted my mortified expression and searched for more subtle wording. "...been together."

"Yeah well you assumed wrong." I said through gritted teeth, resenting how he'd implied I had multiple 'boys'.

"My sincerest apologies." He said sarcastically, guffawing in a way that was anything but sincere.

I'd had enough. I stood up, kicking my chair back in the process and stormed toward the door. Before I could swing it open his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist tightly, twisting it so I spun around to face him.

"Look, I didn't mean to humiliate you." He said, eyes serious. "What I meant to say was, don't do anything you aren't comfortable with. Don't do anything you'll regret."

It was sound advice. I nodded curtly and he released my wrist. And without another word I left the house, slamming the door behind me.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys :) As for the Haymitch/Katniss - I'm getting there. But I the meantime keep reading and reviewing please!**

Peeta was asleep on the couch when I returned. I didn't know whether or not I was relieved about not having to face him. I couldn't avoid talking to him forever.

I tiptoed soundlessly up the staircase and softly closed the bedroom door. It had been a long, confusing, exhausting day and I craved the feeling of a soft pillow beneath my head. I flopped onto the bed and gratefully allowed sleep to envelope me completely for the few hours I had before morning came.

The sound of heavy footsteps downstairs roused me from my sleep. I frowned, blinking rapidly as light hit my eyes. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand which claimed that the time was nine thirty. Shoot.

I sat up and stretched lazily before wrapping a thin robe around my shoulders and heading downstairs. Peeta was pacing around the kitchen at a quick pace, opening up each polished mahogany drawer and sighing in exasperation before shutting it and trying the next.

"Looking for something?" I asked tentatively.

He looked up, startled to see me, but then his face relaxed into a smile.

"My apron. I could've sworn I put it in one of these drawers..." He said, continuing his search.

"Oh, it was in the one below the oven. But it was all scrunched up, so I took it out and hung it behind the pantry door."

He looked slightly surprised, then his expression softened and I could tell he was touched by the gesture.

"Thank you." He said, opening the door and retrieving the apron.

"Going to the bakery?"

"Well it won't run itself." He said lightheartedly, but there was a trace of sadness in his eyes.

"Peeta..." I began. "About last night-"

"Katniss," he interrupted me firmly. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I went too far, it's my fault."

"No it's not, I just..." I buried my head in my hands, frustrated at my inability to articulate the way I felt.

"Hey," he took hold of my wrists and gently pried them away from my face. "No one said this was going to be easy. It's just going to take a little time, that's all."

He smiled genuinely, and I felt reassured. I hugged him.

"You don't have to go into work, you know." I said into his chest.

I felt him chuckle.

"Yes I do." He said. He kissed my head quickly, then released me and made his way to the door.

"I'll be home as soon as I can." He promised, and I smiled in return.

Then he was gone and I was alone in a big house that didn't truly feel like my own.

I wondered aimlessly, pondering what to do with my day. I could go visit Greasy Sae in the soup shop she'd opened in the rebuilt district square. I could take a walk around the forest that was no longer separated from District Twelve by an electrocuted fence. Hunting was out of the question. It reminded me too much of Gale. I could go over to Haymitch's on the off chance he wouldn't be collapsed drunk.

None of these options sounded tempting enough to make me want to get out of my comfortable pajamas. I busied myself by making a hot cup of coffee, adding lots of sugar.

_Just the way Finnick liked it_, I thought, and the sudden ache in my heart felt strong enough to make me throw up.

How I missed him. How I missed all of them, every single one. And before I could stop myself they were all there, faces flashing in my mind causing my throat to tighten and my eyes to well up.

I inhaled sharply, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to clear my mind. But the damage was already done, and I couldn't face any more remembering. It just hurt too much.

I grabbed a bottle of sleep syrup out of one of the kitchen cupboards and poured some into my mouth. I then settled on the couch and welcomed the promise of numbness.

I awoke for the second time that day to a loud noise. What was that insistent thumping? It took a while for my foggy brain to work out that somebody was knocking at the door.

The grey light that filtered through the windows told me that it was early evening. A thin sheen of sweat coated me and I yanked off the robe, grateful for the cool air on my hot skin.

The banging became louder.

I hurried to the door, unlocked it and wrenched it open. Haymitch was standing there, looking distinctly annoyed.

"Christ, it took you long enough."

"Why am I surprised you didn't break the door down?" I snorted.

"Oh trust me, I was getting there." He muttered darkly.

_Trust me._ Our conversation from the previous night came back to me and I felt uncomfortable. It had been strangely intimate, I had felt very exposed, vulnerable. He sensed my shift in mood and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" He said.

"Nothing. Do you want to come in?"

He shook his head. "This is not a social visit. I have news."

"What is it?"

"I've heard from The Capitol. They want to send out a television crew to film you and Peeta. Kind of a newlyweds special."

"More propos? Aren't we kind of over that now?"

He held up a finger to shush me.

"That's not all. They want you in the Capitol for an interview, to show Panem what it wants - that the star crossed lovers they fell in love with have defied all odds and found true happiness."

He said it all with a slightly sarcastic air, knowing that True Happiness was far from what I felt. I bit my lip. I didn't want to return to the Capitol. Not now, not ever, no matter the cause.

"I can't." Was all I said.

He sighed warily, but his eyes softened slightly.

"I know. But before you reject the idea completely, let me tell you something." He paused.

"Yes?"

"A stop in District Two has been scheduled." He said significantly.

My eyes widened, taking in what he meant.

"Gale?" I whispered the name that I hadn't uttered in two years.

He nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

Peeta returned home shortly and Haymitch sat us both down and explained the planned schedule.

"So, the crew will be two reporters and two cameramen - you're going to be split up. Peeta, you're going to stay here in Twelve for a few days and show them around the district, the bakery, et cetera. Katniss, you're going to get a head start on the train journey. They'll film you as you make a stop in Four to see your mother, and, uh-" his eyes darted to Peeta and then to me, knowing that the topic of Gale was a sensitive one between us. "Another in Two. Then we'll take Peeta to the Capitol, where you'll both do the interview. Got it?"

I nodded.

"Why are they splitting us up though?" Peeta questioned. "I don't understand."

"They want to give you each your own segments. You know, to show how you've individually moved on and up, all that bull."

He gave us a few moments to ponder the whole situation. I didn't really know how I felt. Indifferent, I suppose. The idea of the journey was no more appealing to me than staying at home all day playing the role of the suburban wife. It was the promise of Gale though, that was the deciding factor. I had to go. For _him_, I had to.

"I... I don't know," Peeta started, brow furrowed. He turned to me. "Katniss, could you handle it?"

There he was. Selflessly putting me before himself, as usual. If he was talking about the few days I'd have to spend away from him, sure I could handle it. Although he meant so much to me, I couldn't help but welcome the idea of a few days to myself to clear my head. However, if he was talking about revisiting the Capitol, that was another story. It was a different place now. Fair, equal, under a new rule. I knew that. But I couldn't help the tight knot that formed in my stomach when I thought of going back to the place where I lost her, the person I loved more than anyone. But perhaps that's what I needed, to go back. To find peace.

Haymitch's eyes flickered up and caught mine.

"Closure." Was all he said, once again demonstrating his uncanny ability to read my mind.

I nodded my head slowly.

"I'll do it."

**A/N: I'm really sorry I've taken so long to update - school has been crazy and I just started working part-time. Anyway, I know this is short but I promise the next chapter will be long! So... Reviews :D? I'll write faster if I'm more motivated ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you to rock-dobby's-socks, revanha, intotheblue101, Slythercat, Olympic1340, biancaniece and The Dinster for your reviews - keep 'em coming! Next chapter will be up VERY soon, I promise :) x**

It's hard to stay faithful to my word after that. Not when I'm lying awake at three o' clock in the morning, plagued by the many reasons I should not be returning to The Capitol.

What was I thinking when I said I'd be fine without Peeta? The very thought of being trapped on a train heading to The Capitol with people I didn't know would be like replaying the sickeningly similar happenings of almost three years ago. Sure, things were rough between Peeta and I at the moment, but he was my rock. Sturdy, reliable, never-changing. I needed that. What would I do without that?

And suddenly, a light bulb flashed somewhere deep inside my fatigued mind. I rose out of bed gingerly, trying not to wake Peeta and slid my feet into a pair of cushy white slip-ons. I took one look back at his snoring blond form before quietly padding down the stairs and slipping out the front door. I then crossed the Victor's Village, making my way to the front door of the only person I knew would be awake at this hour.

It took about five minute of pounding on the door before Haymitch finally opened up looking rumpled, unshaven and distinctly annoyed.

"Is there some sort of new nightly routine I'm unaware of," he began, irate. "Or do you just find pleasure in bothering me?"

"Let me in, Haymitch." I snapped, in no mood for our usual biting banter. He narrowed his eyes, but moved aside and gestured for me to come in all the same. I stepped into the entrance hall. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest, sighing.

"So what's it this time, Sweetheart?"

"I want to talk to you. About the trip." I said.

"Yes?"

I sighed, pausing to think about how to word my request without sounding pathetically weak or needy.

"I have one condition."

"And that is?" He drawled.

I didn't want to say it. Not when he was like this, not when he could easily laugh me down and humiliate me. Right now he was tired and sarcastic and on-edge, but I had come all the way over here for a reason. I stuck out my chin and mirrored his crossed arms.

"I want you to come with me." I stated.

He was taken aback for a moment, a look of surprise flashing across his features before they're rearranged into a rather amused expression. He barked out a short laugh.

"You want me to come with you?"

He may have found it somewhat funny, but I didn't. Maybe it was the sense of hopelessness that consumed me, or perhaps just fatigue, but there were tears gathering in my eyes. Damn it, I thought harshly, looking down. Why did I always get the urge to break down in front of him?

"Hey," he said, stepping closer and gently lifting my chin up.

A tear escaped, and his eyes softened. Suddenly it was one of those moments that we rarely shared. There was nobody to see our defenses down, or our equally fragmented souls exposed.

"Please." I whispered.

He nodded, and I squeezed the hand that still rested beneath my jaw softly in thanks.

He looked down, and I immediately released his hand, breaking the intimate gesture. He cleared his throat.

"The train leaves on Friday. Better get packing."

I nodded. "Right back at you."

His smirk was the last thing I saw before I made my way out the door and back to the house, eagerly awaiting sleep.

Peeta was in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water when I got in.

"Haymitch's?" He said casually.

"Yeah."

And he didn't question another thing.


End file.
